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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22798024">Glacial</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/broodingmischief/pseuds/ironwreath'>ironwreath (broodingmischief)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>dungeons &amp; dragons [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dungeons &amp; Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Childhood Friends, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Past Character Death, Personal Growth, Team as Family</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 18:35:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,654</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22798024</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/broodingmischief/pseuds/ironwreath</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets into Surina Amrinkarrec; silver dragonborn barbarian of the bear totem. Former noble heir, present mercenary. Cold, blunt, and big. Set in an original universe. </p><p><a href="https://broodingmischief.tumblr.com/tagged/writing%3A-surina">Cross posted from Tumblr.</a> <a href="https://chaoticcomposition.tumblr.com/tagged/surina-amrinkarrec">Art of Surina here.</a></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>dungeons &amp; dragons [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1638913</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Parley</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Fic with Zephrine, Surina's party member, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27115456/chapters/66213067">can now be found here</a>! </p><p>Any number between brackets indicates the session the fic takes place around. If there are no brackets, it takes place before or after the game or at an ambiguous point in time between sessions. These ficlets are in chronological order of the game's events and character's lives, not in the order I wrote them.</p><p>“The power of this weapon, any weapon, comes from here [heart], but only when tempered by this [head], by the discipline, the self control of the one who wields it.”  — Kratos, God of War 4</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina gets into a scuffle.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For promptober 2020.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Valcyis threw the first punch. It caught Surina’s mouth, and the hard scales of her knuckles tore open the right side of her lip in a bloody gash. She snarled and tackled her to the ground, and then they were a mess of silver and white limbs flying for purchase, a spitball of pent-up aggression. </p><p>The steam died, eventually, after a fair exchange of blows. They separated, rolling off each other and collapsing onto their backs. Surina’s horns were still growing in – the longer they got, the more she couldn’t rest her head level with the earth. Her chest billowed with breath, and the short blades of grass were still crunchy with frosted dew beneath her. The sky was overcast, a pale grey dome, and its muted mood washed over her.</p><p>Surina touched her fingers to her mouth; they withdrew bloodied. Her arm flopped to the ground.</p><p>“That’s what you get,” Valcyis panted next to her, listlessly stabbing a finger in her direction before it fell to her stomach.</p><p>“I did not think you would actually hit me,” Surina said. “You have my respect.”</p><p>“Did you think poking a bear too many times would make it run off?”</p><p>“Oh, you are a bear?” Surina sat up. “You forget; I am also a bear.”</p><p>Surina clambered to her feet and offered Valcyis a hand. Her expression dithered from resolute to indignant to soft, but she accepted. Surina hauled her up.</p><p>“Your dad’s gunna kill me when he finds out I hurt you,” Valcyis said. “<em>My</em> dad’s gunna kill me.”</p><p>"We will not tell them, then,” Surina said. “We fell. That is our story. I will cover for you so long as you cover for me.”</p><p>“You? Lie to your dad, the Landgrave of Windcrest? Jeez, I must’ve hit your head harder than I thought.”</p><p>“Would you rather I tell the truth?” Surina asked. </p><p>“No, no.” She crossed her arms and turned up her nose. "Even if you were wrong and deserved it, your dad won't like it."</p><p>Surina extended an arm. “Truce?”</p><p>Valcyis bounced on her toes, bit her lip, but didn’t wait as long to clasp her hand again. “Truce.”</p><p>Surina shook on it. “Maybe we can be friends? I treated you wrong and I would like to fix that.”</p><p>Val grinned. “We’ll parley.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Candlelight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina finds her younger sister reading in the dark.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Surina is around mid-teens here, Thava is ten years younger.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Thava?"</p><p>Silence met Surina's call. The hallway was dark with no signs of life, the only light the candlestick in her hand. She swung it left to right, illuminating the shadowed corners, paintings, mounted swords, and taxidermy of her home.</p><p>"Thava," she called again, sterner, adopting the tone her father used. "It is time for bed, do not hide."</p><p>This wasn't the first time Thava had stayed up late, and it probably wouldn't be the last. It reminded Surina of when it was only her and Kaladan breaking curfew, but she needed to set an example for Thava, a model daughter and older sister. </p><p>She crept down the hall, pushing doors inwards as she passed them and holding her candle aloft to sweep the room in its glow. She huffed an impatient sigh, wisps of frost escaping her nose. Their father sent her and the sooner she found Thava the sooner she could sleep, too. Thava wasn’t old enough for the drills Surina and Kaladan were subject to and thus exempt from the same exhaustion that came from strict physical training. </p><p>Surina cracked open the door to one of the studies. Her light shimmered off silver scales and curved horns. Thava was curled up in an armchair in the corner with a book open, its covers resting on her knees and the pages inches from her nose. Her hand hovered by her mouth in concentration, eyes fixated on the words. </p><p>Thava was reading. In pitch darkness.</p><p>“Thava,” Surina scolded, and her sister started, glancing up from the book.</p><p>“Suri,” she said. “Were you calling me?”</p><p>“Yes,” Surina said, stepping into the room proper. “What are you doing?”</p><p>“Reading,” her sister said, but almost phrased it like a question, as if it was obvious. “I did not hear you, I was - it is really interesting.” She held up her book. </p><p>“It is pitch black,” Surina observed, gesturing to the room and its candles that had long since burnt out. “How can you read?”</p><p>“You can’t see?” Thava asked, quirking her head. </p><p>“No,” Surina bit out, also as if it was obvious. She squinted. “Can you?”</p><p>“Yes?” Thava asked, and her expression flitted into one of worry and fear. “I thought everyone could see in the dark.”</p><p>Surina lowered the candlestick to the nearby desk and strode around it. She plucked the book from Thava’s hands. It was an adventure novella, fictional but taking place within the Imperium. She marked the page to Thava’s quiet protests and set it beside her candle.</p><p>“It is time for bed,” she repeated, weariness removing the edge from her voice. She extended her arms. “Come.”</p><p>Thava crawled towards her, still forlorn, and Surina hefted her into one arm. She retrieved her candlestick from the desk and butted into the hallway with her shoulder. Thava’s hands tightened around her neck and she shrunk into her side.</p><p>“Am I in trouble?” she whispered.</p><p>“For staying up past your bedtime, yes.”</p><p>“For reading in the dark,” Thava clarified.</p><p>“Oh.” Surina didn’t know what it meant. Her sister was always a little odd, but that oddness never manifested in anything physical before. “I do not think so,” she said, but wasn’t certain. “It does not sound like you can stop it. It is not a curse, I think, but a gift, so long as it does not come with a price. Many of us would like to see in the dark.”</p><p>Thava nodded, her face pressed against her shoulder.</p><p>“We will tell mother and father in the morning,” she said. She hesitated, then planted a quick kiss to the side of Thava’s head. “Perhaps you breaking rules will be overlooked for your..eyesight.” </p><p>Thava giggled. “Does this make me a superhero?”</p><p>“Do not push your luck.”</p><p>“Sorry.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Instinct</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina's final exchange with her younger brother.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Surina is about 27 here, Kaladan is 25.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Surina stared dead ahead. She clutched the reigns of her horse tight and felt tension form a scowl on her face. There was no way to describe how she felt except for ‘off.’ It was like dread followed her at her back but whenever she turned her head to look, she saw nothing. </p><p>Fires formed a distant glow on the horizon, illuminating the dusk above a canopy of pines. A rain fell earlier and the air and earth were both damp, puddles forming like holes on the dirt road that lead between the smaller towns on her father’s land.</p><p>She spurred her horse a tad faster and heard the hooves of her brother’s steed keep pace. She glanced over her shoulder. Kaladan stared directly at her and not their destination, grim-faced and thoughtful. He’d worn the same expression in the armoury until she’d stalked over and straightened out his armour.</p><p>“Quiet,” she hissed.</p><p>Kaladan raised his hands placatingly, his reigns looped behind each thumb. “I did not say anything.”</p><p>“I can hear your thoughts.”</p><p>“That is odd, I did not think my thoughts sounded like horses and armour.” He lowered his hands, his expression not having washed away. “What is wrong?”</p><p>She snorted and turned to face forward, the air forming a white mist in front of her nose. Kaladan trotted up beside her, leaning over his horse and lowering his voice, loud enough to be heard but quiet enough that their guards didn’t overhear.</p><p>“Be honest with me,” he said. “You may claim to hear my thoughts but I cannot hear yours.”</p><p>“We are not far from Timberwook,” she said cooly. “I do not think it wise to start this discussion at this time.”</p><p>“Perhaps it is the only time.” He straightened and shook his shoulders, his fur cloak releasing a smattering of droplets. “Have we had this discussion before?”</p><p>“Of a sort. I do not wish to talk circles before we are to fight.”</p><p>“But I do not want it on your mind during the fight. I am sure I am not the only one who wants you focused.” He jerked his head to the direction of their father’s voice directing the guards. “Tell me, Surina.”</p><p>She sighed, but refused to let her posture droop, squeezing her shoulder blades closer together. “I do not know what to say. I simply feel ‘off.’” She regarded him, allowing a crease of worry to appear in her brow. “I do not think we should split up. Something does not feel right.”</p><p>Kaladan met her worried look with one of his own. “Is there a reason you feel that way?”</p><p>“No. It is simply a feeling. I do not like that you, father, and I have all been called to fight all at once.”</p><p>Kaladan shrugged. “It was bound to happen eventually.”</p><p>“That does not console me.”</p><p>“I know, I’m sorry.” </p><p>Surina’s worry soured, her expression forming into a slight glare. “You have been the one to tell me to trust my instinct and my gut.” </p><p>“And I stand by that,” Kaladan said. He cleared his throat, stole a quick look behind them, then drew closer. “You have good judgement, Surina, and you should believe in yourself. Do you really think we should stay together?”</p><p>Their horses slowed, allowing the guards and their father to catch up with them at a fork in the road that split three ways. Surina hesitated, then nodded. They both turned at once as their father rode up between them, separating them, their horses stamping their hooves. </p><p>He searched both their faces, his lips creeping downwards. Surina thought it was if his little spectacles were seeing-eye glasses into their heads as she saw him recognize their hesitation for what it was.</p><p>“What is it?” he asked. “We must move.”</p><p>Kaladan opened his mouth, but Surina intervened. “I do not think we should separate,” she explained, and despite her gut feeling being absolute, her voice didn’t sound as confident. “We are stronger together. Kaladan and I will be able to clear bandits faster together, then move on-“ </p><p>Torinn shook his head. “No. We are to stick to the plan. It has been decided.”</p><p>Surina looked to Kaladan, who also didn’t seem to share her confidence, but gave her a tiny nod. She leaned forward. </p><p>“Father,” she said, “would it not galvanize the guards and townspeople to see us united, and strike fear-”</p><p>“No,” her father repeated, louder this time. “We are wasting time. You are to do as you’re ordered.” His austere look softened. “You are strong alone, Surina. Kaladan as well.”</p><p>“And we are not truly alone,” Kaladan piped up, drawing her gaze. “We have our guards. I will be with you again soon.”</p><p>As if on cue, Surina’s guards filed in behind her, and Kaladan’s by him. Surina’s dread only mounted at the sight of them in three groups and not one or two, but she held her expression firm, not wanting her father to see her waver in spirit. She swallowed the trepidation in her throat.</p><p>She reached out and Kaladan grasped her hand. "For Windcrest.”</p><p>“For Windcrest."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Fratricide</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina is blamed for the murder of her brother. Takes place shortly after Instinct.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Surina continued to feel 'off’ the entire night. It started as soon as she donned her armour and never left her as her practised movements took her hacking through the bandits attacking her home. She carried it with her as she glared at their corpses, leapt on to her horse, and spurred her down the path where her brother was to meet her.</p><p>She stopped her horse’s gallop upon sighting another batch of figures on the road. She recognized the glint of Windcrest armour on several of the prone bodies and dismounted, rushing over. None of them moved.</p><p>She checked over each, rolling them over where needed. One of them could have potentially been alive, just unconscious, but she found no pulse or sign of life. Guard. Bandit. Guard. She recognized some of their faces. They were part of Kaladan’s team. Her dread mounted.</p><p>Finally, she reached him. Kaladan laid face-up, his fur cloak matted with dirt and blood. There was a gaping hole wrenched into his breastplate and his arms were splayed by his side, his weapon out of reach. A stream of blood poured from his mouth and nose, all meeting together to absorb a deep crimson into the earth beneath him. His eyes, glassy, stared up at nothing.</p><p>Surina stood over him, numb, giving a single slow shake of her head. Her guards hovered behind her. She’d seen countless corpses, probably more on this night than any other in her life, but none of them held the same weight as Kaladan’s. Dragonborn were known for their longevity. The only deaths she knew personally were premature and through combat. Her brother could not join that list. </p><p>She shakily lowered to one knee, sword now in a vice grip, and turned his face towards her. She realized that she had already seen him in his last moments alive, nodding to her in certainty of victory as they clasped hands. She would never see him smile, laugh, bicker with her, or cry ever again. Grief and disbelief collapsed on her and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back tears. She was right to think they should have stayed together.</p><p>She hardly noticed the galloping of hooves grow louder or the clatter of moving metal as more soldiers approached.</p><p>“See, it is as I said,” a voice said. She looked up and rose to her feet, though her knees almost quit on her. Lord Amysic’s escorts, her father, and several more Windcrest guards had arrived. Her father, normally vast and imposing in his armour, looked smaller as he stared on in horror, his sword held loosely in his grasp.</p><p>“It is as what?” she asked. The dread curdled in her stomach, made her want to be sick.</p><p>“It is true, then?” her father whispered. He gestured to Kaladan, his brows lowering in anger as he raised his voice. “Your murdered your brother? My son?”</p><p>“What?” The force of the accusation made her reel back a step, then retake it with a stomp. “No! I would never do such a thing, how could you possibly—I would not dream of hurting him.”</p><p>Torinn glanced sideways to Amysic’s guards, uncertainty passing over his eyes. One shook their head. Torinn looked back to her, his eyes flicking downwards, and she realized she was waving her sword around, coated in blood.</p><p>She knew this stacked against her, but she refused to sheath it, reinforcing her grip. She was innocent. She shouldn’t have had to and it was the only thing in the moment that felt real and certain. </p><p>Her own assigned guards stepped forward. “She’s lying, my lord,” one said. Surina’s blood froze. “He was alive when we arrived, but she waylaid into him while he was injured. It was if she lost her mind, we saw it happen!”</p><p>Surina’s head snapped in his direction. Before she could open her mouth, her second guard chimed in. “It’s true. She led us past our allotted route, sir. He did not stand a chance.”</p><p>Adrenaline still roaring in her, she reached for his throat. “How <em>dare</em> you,” she snarled. “You were with me! You fought beside me! We were late!” She threw him backwards and he stumbled. She looked to her father, whose eyes were wide. “He was dead when we arrived, it is they who are lying!”</p><p>“She really has lost her mind!” One of Torinn’s guards shouted from the back. “You’ve seen how those two have been at each other’s throats recently, it was only a matter of time—”</p><p>“You,” she said, jabbing a finger at him, “Shut the hell up. This is not your business.” She whirled again, this time on her other guard, who backed away in genuine fear. “Who is paying you to lie? Who do I have to—”</p><p>“Enough!”</p><p>Her father’s voice cut through the noise and the ringing in her ears and the flat of his sword bumped against her waist. It hit her armour, but he held it with force, and she knew he could overpower her should she continue. She stopped. She pushed it away, but he lowered it to the ready by his side, mirroring her.</p><p>“I will not have any more violence here tonight,” he said coldly.</p><p>“Father,” she pleaded, “I did not kill him. I have said it before and I will say it again: I would not dream of hurting him, let alone killing him. We have butted heads, yes, but never enough to warrant his—his death.” Saying it aloud was like glass in her throat. She stepped forward. “How could you believe the word of them over the word of your own daughter?”</p><p>“Do not force my hand. Give me your sword.”</p><p>“But— ”</p><p>“Now.”</p><p>She held out her weapon. He snatched it from her, then passed it off to a guard behind him.</p><p>“This must be investigated. You, Surina,” he paused and closed his eyes, like the words physically pained him, “must be taken into custody.” He opened his eyes, gestured with two fingers, and Surina jerked as two burly dragonborn grabbed her arms from each side. She wrestled them off at first, but they came at her again and restrained her.</p><p>“Do not resist,” her father said, this time with sorrow as he sheathed his own sword. “I do not want to believe that my eldest is a murderer, but I must remain impartial and the evidence I have seen thus far does not look kindly upon you, daughter.”</p><p>“No!” she cried. The guards started to drag her away and she continued to fight them, kicking and screaming until she was spent and they had to support her weight as they fit her into cuffs. “Father, how could you—I did not—I could not—” She heaved a sob. “Kaladan—”</p><p>Torinn knelt by Kaladan. He bowed his head and gently, slowly brought his eyes to rest. “There will be justice.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Prison</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina receives three visitors during her imprisonment.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>“Simbelmÿne. Ever has it grown on the tombs of my forebears. Now it shall cover the grave of my son. Alas, that these evil days should be mine. The young perish and the old linger. That I should live to see the last days of my house. No parent should have to bury their child.” — Théoden, Lord of the Rings</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Surina was born of the cold. Ice lived in her veins; it felt wrong on all levels to let it get to her. The cell she was imprisoned in was damp and she was dressed in rags, which soaked up the wet. She felt the frozen remains of something in her chest, seeping into her bones, underneath her protective shell of silver scales.</p><p>She huddled in the corner, her breathing slow. She wasn’t at threat of dying, they fed and watered her. They wouldn’t let her die unless it was by the blade of an executioner.</p><p>Her cell was a barren stone room with a single raised slab with straw for a bed and a bucket in the corner. There were chains attached to the floor in the opposite corner, which they at least kept off her wrists. She struggled every foot of the way there, but once she was locked within she was no longer violent or made any attempts to free herself.</p><p>A single window sat outside her cell, pouring in harsh striped, white light. Two Windcrest guards were stationed either side of the door, standing as rigid as their polearms. There was nothing fetid here for her to smell, at least – the water had the scent of fresh snow and dragonborn did not sweat.</p><p>She imagined that would change, however, depending on how long they let her rot.</p><p>She did not know how much time had passed. The guards were unresponsive when she spoke. She had no visitors since her incarceration and she crossed between anger and grief like two sides to a river. Were they going to investigate with no word from her? Do everything behind her back?</p><p>Did she have no say in her fate?</p><p>A knock rang out. One of the guards heaved the door open and in stepped Amysic Venx, flanked by two of his own guards. His brass scales were a splash of life against the dead, but there was still an air about him that was stale. He was dressed in teals and a black fur cloak as if to off-set his own skin. The silhouette of a kestrel was pinned to his breast and a longsword sat at his belt, sheathed.</p><p>He waved a hand and all four guards exited. Surina stood and approached the bars. She only stood a few inches taller than Amysic and it was hidden in the distance he kept from the edge of her prison, but she rose to her full height and stretched her shoulders to their terrifying width. Of all the people who could visit her, his face was the one she wanted to see the least.</p><p>“What do you want?” she asked. “Why are you here?”</p><p>“Well,” he started, cleared his throat, then began anew. “Well, I thought I would come to see the monster behind the bars.”</p><p>“I am no monster, and I am not a circus pet,” she growled.</p><p>“That would be an amusing outcome, but no, sadly, you are not. Murdered your brother and now even your own parents won’t come to see your face. I suppose you’re the opposite of a circus attraction; nobody wants to see you.”</p><p>“You did not answer my question.”</p><p>“No, I did not. I came to, ah, see how you are doing, but I also came to tell you that you should have been more careful.”</p><p>She shot him a perplexed, angry look.</p><p>“I tried to be more careful,” she said, remembering her plea to her father to stay with Kaladan.</p><p>“Your baseline knowledge of politics got you into this situation, Surina,” he said, and he hissed her name. She could almost imagine the forked tongue to go with it. “It didn’t take much to craft this turn of events.”</p><p>Her brows furrowed and her gaze lowered. In her mind, the pieces began to form together.</p><p>“I mean, I couldn’t have predicted quite how it worked out, but I must admit…” He trailed off and sighed. “While Kaladan’s death is regrettable, it does rather nicely get you out of the way.”</p><p>“<em>You</em> are responsible?”</p><p>“Even if I was, what could you do about it?” He gave her a toothy smile, almost feral. There was a weird intensity to him. Amysic had always been a strange one, but this extended beyond that, uncomfortable and wrong. She grabbed the bars and shoved her face through them, snarling. He didn’t react, smile fixed in place.</p><p>“Within a few days, your head will be impaled over the city that you have spent your life in and your body will be left to the dogs, so. You’ll either be a forgotten charter or a cautionary tale for all to remember.”</p><p>“How could you – you are – <em>why</em>?” she demanded. She tried to rattle the bars, but they didn’t budge. “What do you gain?”</p><p>“Why? Let me tell you why.” He leaned in slow without moving his feet. His voice lowered just enough that only she could hear, arms criss-crossing behind his back. “Because it was <em>fun</em>.”</p><p>The cold within Surina swelled and her mouth expelled her fury in a cloud of ice and snow. It settled into a cone shape on the floor, frozen stone and kicked up icicles like whetted blades. Amysic stood on the cusp of it, unharmed. He rolled his shoulders and plucked a single shard of ice from his cloak, inspected it, then flicked it aside.</p><p>“Ah, just what I needed,” he said. “How soothing. Do you feel better? What a little tantrum that was.”</p><p>“You are <em>vile</em> and loathsome. If I do not die, you will be the first that I kill.”</p><p>“Surina, if you survive this, and you may, let me tell you something: you will go far from here and if you dare to come back, what happened with Kaladan will be a sweet memory in comparison to what I will do.”</p><p>“How dare you say his name, you <em>murderer</em>.” Tears stung her eyes, but they were tears of anger, biting and sharp. Her whole body trembled with unconstrained rage. “You put me behind bars because you are scared of me. You go through guards and bandits because you cannot face me yourself, and you know this. So when there are no bars between us—” She huffed.</p><p>Amysic clenched his left arm, fingers flexing and then curling. Surina only saw it from the corner of her eye, like an eagerness to cast a spell or grab his sword from some source of discomfort. He snorted, a bit of grey smoke curling from his nose.</p><p>“You buy others because you cannot do it yourself,” she finished harshly.</p><p>“I buy others because it gives me distance,” he spat. “It allowed me to put you in here. You think with your muscles, not with your brain, and that’s why you’re going to at best, die, and at worst, live in some squalor for the rest of your days.”</p><p>“You think too much, you do not fight enough. You do not have the mind of a tactician; you have the mind of a coward.”</p><p>“Well,” he said dismissively, his tail giving a wide sweep of the floor, “we will see who gets executed first, hm?”</p><p>Another cloud of frost fumed from Surina’s nose, but she was spent – it was cool air, nothing that could cause damage. She already felt drained for doing it once, and the hole left behind invited more cold to take its place.</p><p>“I’ll give your parents and sister your regards, though they probably won’t want them,” he said.</p><p>“Go fuck yourself.”</p><p>“Every day,” he sing-songed, waltzing out of the room with a flourish.</p><p>Surina’s fingers slackened on the prison bars without releasing them. The metal was sunken in slightly where she’d gripped it, now in the shape of her hands. She sunk to her knees, lightly holding the bars above her head, and screamed into the floor with the full force of her lungs.</p>
<hr/><p>Surina gave up trying to keep track of the days. It was a waste of energy. She would be released when she was released, either for death or something marginally less unpleasant. It was difficult to think of what her options were when her brain had little sustenance.</p><p>Her second guest arrived with much less fanfare. The knock was much more tepid, and the same guard wrenched it open to reveal Thava. She was dressed in short, practical mage robes that ended mid-thigh, dark purple in colour with silver embroidery. A guard outside held her staff in both hands; she entered without it.</p><p>Surina rose at once, but her body regretted it. The room spun and she bent forward before she could stagger over, then approached the bars once the spots of white disappeared from her vision.</p><p>Thava shot each guard one short, sharp, precise look. “You may go. Leave. I will call you back in when I am done.”</p><p>The guards looked to each other and both made a noise of dissent. She raised a finger before they could form words. “No. I outrank you. Please leave. I wish to speak to my sister alone.”</p><p>She was authoritative without being cruel. The familiarity of the guards not quite listening to Thava was weird amidst an entirely foreign setting. It was almost <em>normal</em>. But they complied, lowering their heads as they shuffled out of the room. </p><p>Thava closed the door behind them. For a moment she stood with her back turned, hand rested on the ring of the handle, not looking. Surina saw her shoulders rise with a deep breath before she straightened, turned, and walked up to her, her face twisted with remorse.</p><p>“Oh, Surina,” she murmured.</p><p>“Thava, what – I did not think I would see any family again,” Surina nearly cried, grasping the bars.</p><p>“You will not see mother and father,” she said softly. “They are – they are convinced that you – they are sure that uh—” Surina saw her fight with her words, to make real what had happened. She understood. “They are certain that you were responsible for Kaladan’s death.”</p><p>“But I was not – what do you believe? Do – you know I could not, right?”</p><p>“I want to believe it,” Thava said, earnest. “It’s hard, Surina, people are telling me that you did it, that there was evidence and I—”</p><p>“What evidence?” Surina cut in. “Whatever evidence there was, it was planted by Amysic.”</p><p>“And I – I believe you. I do now, especially after seeing you in person. But no one here will listen to me, I’m sorry. It does not matter what I tell them, it does not matter what I say.”</p><p>“So father does not believe the word of either of his daughters?” Surina asked coldly.</p><p>“Father is blind with grief,” Thava reasoned. “That does not excuse his behaviour, but it does – it does explain it. They want to take you out in front of the city and behead you, that is their plan.”</p><p>Surina bowed her head, sunken with dread.</p><p>“But I don’t think they are going to be able to,” Thava continued, rushing to the good news. “You remember your annoying friend’s father, Balkis?”</p><p>“Yes?” Surina lifted her head. “But I would not call her annoying.”</p><p>“I was trying to lighten the mood, I’m sorry.” She paused, scratching her wrist. “Balkis has gotten the capitals’ judges involved and they do not believe there is enough evidence to kill you over the crime. The most they are willing to go to for father is exile. I know that is not much better, but you will at least be able to live, right?”</p><p>Surina exhaled slowly, hands sinking to waist-level on the bars, her forehead nearly touching the metal, relieved. Thava stepped in closer, tentatively reaching to place a hand over Surina’s. Surina released the bar and took hold.</p><p>“Whatever happens, Surina, I am so sorry for how things turned out,” Thava said. “The way that this has gone, it’s not right. I am sorry there is not more I can do.”</p><p>“Visiting—” Surina brushed her thumbs over Thava’s knuckles. “It is more than anything anyone else I love has done.”</p><p>“Listen,” Thava said, lowering her voice, “we both know that it was Amysic, or at least we know he had some part in it. I do not know what I can do, but after you go, after all this has settled, I will try to find a way to prove it was him.” Surina nodded, squeezing her hand. “I do not know if it will ever amount to anything, but perhaps I can do something. Anything.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>“And who knows, if you look after yourself out there and survive, maybe I will be able to make it so you can come back.” She smiled, thinly. “I would like that.”</p><p>“I do not know if it will happen and I do not know if I would want to come back here, but the thought is appreciated.” Surina glowered. “I get to live so that one day I can use my life to get back at him.”</p><p>“I will come and try to see you again before I go. My father – father,” she corrected, “said that I was not allowed to come see you, but someone needs to stand up to him now. You will not be there to do it, so...”</p><p>“You are right,” Surina agreed, smiling faintly. More realities dropped on her then – she would be leaving the Imperium for good. She would probably never speak to her parents again. Even though Thava was her sister by blood, she had no family left to call her own.</p><p>“Fuck him, fuck them all,” Thava muttered, rubbing between her eyes as if fighting off a migraine. “Fuck them all.”</p><p>Surina reached through the opening to clasp her upper arm and stroked up and down, ever the bigger sister, unable to resist a conciliatory gesture despite being the one imprisoned. Thava closed the gap, attempting to hug her through the bars, shuddering with what sounded like a small, wounded sob. Surina attempted to hug her back. She could reach well enough, but she felt the barrier separating her from full comfort.</p><p>“If you get any smaller, I could pull you through,” she said gently.</p><p>“One day maybe I will know magic that will allow me through,” Thava said, catching her breath. She sniffled. “That may be a bit beyond me yet.”</p><p>“You are braver and stronger than our parents, I am sure you will.” Surina lowered the front of her nose into Thava’s shoulder. “You will perhaps be the greatest of all of us.”</p><p>Thava sobbed again, clutching tighter. Surina rubbed up and down her back. They remained like that for a quiet minute, but eventually Thava broke away, hands sliding down Surina’s arms.</p><p>“Is there anything you want for the journey?” she asked, dabbing at her eyes with the back of her wrists. “I can try and hunt down anything. I will deliver it to Balkis and he can give it to you.”</p><p>“A weapon,” Surina said. “Any weapon.” She longed for the weight of anything in her hands that wasn’t bars, something to fend off the utter helplessness she’d felt ever since they threw her into the dungeon.</p><p>“I will see what I can do.” Thava nodded. “I will come see you again before you have to go.” She started to turn and paused halfway, torn. Her face flitted through several emotions, all some sort of approximation of coping with the trauma and loss. In a strangled voice she said, “I love you, sister. And I am so, so sorry.”</p><p>“I love you, too,” Surina returned.</p><p>Thava left.</p>
<hr/><p>Surina’s third visitor was also her last.</p><p>Balkis swept into the room unceremoniously. His brass scales, unlike Amysic’s and his kin, were welcome. Balkis was normally a well put-together man as the landgrave of Skywatch, but his shoulders were sagged, his face weary and clothes dishevelled. If not for the cut of his cloth and the chaplet on his head, he may have appeared like any regular dragonborn.</p><p>“Surina, I have come here to take you away,” he announced, and his voice was every bit as tired as he looked. “Guard, unlock the door.”</p><p>One of the Windcrest guards procured a ring of jangling keys and fiddled to find the correct one.</p><p>“We, uh, I have some fresh clothes for you,” Balkis broached, “and then when you are ready, we will leave Windcrest and I will take you somewhere else, somewhere safe.”</p><p>Surina swallowed and nodded, rising slowly this time, using the wall for aid. It wasn’t lost on her that Balkis had thrown away his friendship with her father for all of this. He thrust out a hand to the guards.</p><p>“I will deal with this. She is no threat to me. Go, wait outside, we will come out when we’re done.” The guards exchanged a look before bowing and passing the keys and doing as ordered. Balkis approached her cell and Surina met him at the door.</p><p>“It’s nice to finally be able to see you, Surina,” he said, gentler now that the guards were no longer present. “Your father would not allow me until now.”</p><p>“It would seem he is not letting a lot of people see me,” she said.</p><p>“I don’t think he or your mother wish to be convinced you are not to blame.” Balkis fished out the cell key, fit it into the lock, then shook it, struggling, and continued. “They have decided that is what it is. They have proclaimed it for most of the city; to go back on it now would look foolish, but even moreso they feel that you did it. Nothing I say to him can convince him otherwise, nothing your sister says, nothing anyone loyal to you has said.”</p><p>“A lot of who I thought were loyal to me has proven not to be,” Surina mused bitterly. “They can be bought out.”</p><p>“Politics is a dirty business; it’s why I try to avoid it where I can.”</p><p>“I have seen the faces of those who are truly on my side,” she said, gesturing to him.</p><p>“There are some common people who believe that you are innocent,” he explained, still struggling with the lock. “There has been some unrest after your father made the announcement. You are popular and many of them believe that you were framed, as you say. They believe it was either bandits or another person who had something to gain, or simply that your father didn’t like having a wilful daughter. There are plenty of rumours, all of which I doubt are true, but what is true is that you are not guilty, and we both know this.”</p><p>“Balkis,” she said. “You may not see it as such, but you have saved my life. Literally.”</p><p>He glanced up. “If I did not save your life, we both know Valcyis would come back and cut off my tail.”</p><p>“More than that, I think.”</p><p>He gave a small smile. “You are many things, but you are not a murderer. You loved your brother; I did not need any convincing on that. I have eyes to see.”</p><p>Tears welled in Surina’s eyes. The lock finally clicked, stiff as it was, and the door opened with a whine.</p><p>“You look like you could do with a bath,” he said lightly, his nose wrinkling. “You certainly smell like you could.”</p><p>She remained in the door, uncertain. A small, fragile part of her wondered if she deserved to be caged for her carelessness. Balkis reached up to put a hand on her shoulder, disturbing her downward spiral of thoughts.</p><p>“Child, I am sorry. None of this should have happened to you.” She rested a hand over his. “You are going to be alright. We’ll make sure of it.”</p><p>“Time will tell.”</p><p>“You will survive,” he insisted, “and if there is anything I can do to help you before you leave, I will do it. That is my promise. Not just for Val’s sake, but also my own.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>“Come now.” His arm wound around her shoulders, coaxing her out of her prison and towards the exit. “Let’s get out of this dreary place; your father should take better care of his dungeon.”</p><p>“He should take better care of his daughter.” </p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Sojourn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina meets with Val after her imprisonment on the way out of the Imperium.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Surina had one foot out of the carriage when she caught a streak of white and a call of her name. It came from Balkis’ porch and hurtled down the path to the front gates, throwing them open with a squeal of metal. By the time she planted both feet on solid ground, Valcyis slammed her in a hug.</p><p>The force nearly toppled her over, but she caught herself and returned the embrace. She was still recovering lost weight from her imprisonment, lost everything – Valcyis buried her face in her newest pelt, a gift from Balkis. She squeezed tighter than she ever had, or maybe she always hugged this way and Surina was never frail enough to notice.</p><p>“I heard what happened,” Val said, muffled. “I've been waiting here biting my nails for ages. I’m so glad you’re alright – well, not alright, but you know what I mean.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>Balkis emerged from the berlin behind her and filed past them without comment. They stayed like that a while, out in the cold, the northern wind stirring their clothes. Surina didn’t want to move until life amended her, that somehow Valcyis would be the heart and center of it. </p>
<hr/><p>Valcyis poured her glass to the brim with a clear liquor. Surina watched, numb, fingers curled like fish hooks around the rests of an armchair. Balkis’ study fireplace crackled, casting objects in an irenic orange glow – what wasn’t bathed in light existed in warm shades of brown.</p><p>Everything about his home was hospitable. Metals of trophies, plaques, and the bindings on books were captured with brass and gold instead of silver, iron, and platinum. She knew it well. But even in the comforts of his estate, she felt like a stranger. She was not only exiled from her land, but also the luxuries of nobility. If she would never experience it again, she might as well reject it and get used to it.</p><p>“Drink up,” Val encouraged, tipping the bottle of firewater into a glass of her own. “You look like you could use it, or three. We have the whole bottle to ourselves, anyhow.”</p><p>Surina reached for it. All of her was still tensed like she was bracing herself for another blow, physical or mental. She’d been like that ever since she left prison, like her exile was a farce and she’d be executed at a later date, that Balkis’ guards would turn on her as readily as her own. </p><p>She jumped when Val laid a hand on her wrist. She steadied – she’d been shaking, liquid prancing against the sides of her glass. </p><p>“Relax,” Valcyis said, almost an order, but spoken too softly. “You can relax here, Suri. Nothing is going to happen to you on my watch, not from here to when we leave the Imperium to after.”</p><p>Surina nodded and exhaled slow, muscles untwisting. She sipped her drink, tried to let the liquid warmth thaw her from the inside out. Her stay was only temporary, but any comfort was better than none. Valcyis was someone she could catch her breath with.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Fury's Edge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Valcyis has Surina name her greataxe.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Takes place after Surina's exile.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Surina drew the surface of her blade across the whetstone. It was an easy, practised gesture, and one that calmed her to her core. It made her feel in control of something in her life.</p>
<p>It was a new weapon, a greataxe. Cleaning, sharpening, and maintaining it would make it better in combat and extend its life. She felt protected in the care of it. It wasn’t a weapon she had a lot of experience with, but she kind of liked that. It was something new and different and one more thing she could adapt to outside of the Imperium.</p>
<p>“You should name it.”</p>
<p>She looked at Valcyis seated on the rock next to her, cleaning her sword and shield but watching Surina’s axe. They had found a quiet place to sit outside the tavern and it was a small town where nobody would bother two heavily-armed dragonborn. Surina snorted and shook her head.</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“Oh, you think that’s a request? You have to name it now.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>“Because I bought it for you.”</p>
<p>Surina paused. She wrapped and pocketed the whetstone, then gripped the axe by its handle near the head and held it up in front of her. She caught her reflection in the blade, but too briefly to make out any details. She turned it so it reflected Val instead, grinning devilishly at her.</p>
<p>“If you think I should name it, then it is only fair that you pick the name,” she said.</p>
<p>Val busied herself with her sword and shield once more in thought. Surina stood and took a few practise swings to feel the weight again. It was heavy, but that meant it would hurt more than any sword she’d wielded before when it landed.</p>
<p>Some sick part of her wondered if it would be satisfying to cause that kind of pain. If it was Amysic on the end, perhaps.</p>
<p>“Fury’s Edge.”</p>
<p>Surina straightened and turned to face Val. She knocked her knees together, looking extremely pleased with herself.</p>
<p>“’Fury’s Edge’?” Surina repeated flatly.</p>
<p>“Yep. Fury’s Edge.”</p>
<p>Surina looked at the axe with both hands, frowning. “Do I have to? I do not see the point in naming a weapon. It does not make it more effective in combat.”</p>
<p>“That’s your opinion and I’m here to tell you that your opinion is wrong,” Val said. “You’ve got to make it seem cool. When they write stories about me, you might be featured.”</p>
<p>Surina grunted and slid back into her offensive stance, raising the axe. “Then I suppose it does not matter what I name it, if you are the one answering questions.”</p>
<p>“Sure, but you might get a few stories about you and your axe, too. And I’m not about to let my friend say ‘it is just a greataxe,’” Val said, mimicking Surina’s inflection. </p>
<p>Surina swung with more force this time, feeling her fury bleed into the tips of her consciousness. It felt like an exposed nerve, and she found it difficult to control or fight back.</p>
<p>“Nobody will want to write stories about me,” she said coldly. “What they will see is a blight on my family name. They will see someone to be taken pity on, being exiled instead of executed.” Swing. “And if my crime is exonerated and the truth is exposed, then a fool who was manipulated, taken advantage of, and undeserving of the Amrinkarrec name.” Swing. “Someone who was too stupid to see the signs of betrayal.” Her axe blade smashed into the ground. She was breathing heavier, she realized, and took a deep breath. She had to yank to free her axe from the dirt and now she had to clean it again.</p>
<p>Val watched her closely. “I think it fits,” she said. She rolled to her feet, fixed her shield into place on her arm and twirled her sword, its gleam catching the last rays of sunset. “Did you wanna have another go?”</p>
<p>Surina nodded and widened her stance, grateful for the distraction. “Do not hold back.”</p>
<p>“Never.”</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Ruthless</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina's first rage.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For promptober 2020. </p><p>cw: gore</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Red descended over Surina’s vision as a cloud of cultures. She reached for the handle of her greataxe and the rest became unclear – a blur of shapes and movement, shrieks indistinguishable from one another, and blood shooting in arcs. Unlike hitting a weapon or a shield when she sparred, her blade sunk <em>in</em>, broke skin and muscle and bone.</p><p>Every fight from her life before was calculated and made with years of professional training on her side. She never forgot who she was, where she was, or who was at the end of her blade. Combat began and ended in the space of seconds, but she remembered every detail to better herself for the next.</p><p>All that was pent up in her from the past several months – the pain, the loss, the sheer, concentrated <em>anger</em> – released at once. </p><p>Consciousness returned as she rose from a final blow. Her stance was wide and low, poised over a body. A human bandit’s head laid cleft in twain from temple to jaw, and his insides created a ropey bridge between her axe and what was left of him. Her breath left in heaves of white frost, and her fur felt bigger, swarming around her shoulders as if trying to engulf her head.</p><p>There was a soft, almost timid touch at her shoulder. She flinched and spun, a snarl in the back of her throat, but the touch belonged to Val. Her hand lifted, then clamped back down with conviction.</p><p>“Easy, Suri,” she said. “I think you got ‘em.”</p><p>Tension oozed out of her and she straightened out of her hunch. Half a dozen corpses littered the ground around them. Some had the clean plunge of a sword mark in their chest, a gift of Val’s, but most had severed limbs and gouges removed from their bodies just as large. A bloodbath.</p><p>Her greataxe – Fury’s Edge – gleamed red and wet. Her front, drenched. She threw aside the axe. Behind Val, with his back pressed up against the carriage, Balkis clutched his shirt. If a brass dragonborn could pale, he would have.</p><p>Surina’s decimation was ruthless. She had never seen destruction like this – not even when she discovered her brother dead in the street.</p><p>She felt like the monster Amysic described. She felt like she had become the person her parents banished instead of the woman she claimed to be. For that, she felt like she validated their decision. She trembled, and Val looped her arm with hers in silent support.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Extortion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina threatens a mayor when he doesn't pay her.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Surina stumbled up the stairs. Blood drenched her shirt and occasionally dropped from one of her arms, marking her trail. Despite this she straightened, raised a fist, and knocked.</p><p>The mayor opened the door. He was a human man, at least halfway through his expected life, with short brown hair and peach skin. His expression was curious at first, then horrified as he opened the door fully.</p><p>“You did not tell me there were <em>two</em>,” she hissed.</p><p>The mayor soaked her in. There were puncture wounds in both shoulders, dirt caked her entire chest and face, and there were multiple tears in her clothes. What he couldn’t see was the most hideous gash across her back in the shape of three claws. She still had her greataxe in hand, which she had dragged here, but she refused to put it away out of fear of another ambush. Feathers stuck to a darker blood spattered across the blade.</p><p>“I didn’t know there were two,” he said. “You—but they’re gone?”</p><p>“Yes, and at no small price.” She adjusted her grip. “I require double the compensation and a doctor, if you can spare it.”</p><p>The mayor shifted his weight. “Surina,” he started, cautious, “I can pay you. I <em>will</em> pay you. But not right now. The doctor I can fetch immediately, but—”</p><p>Surina’s axe clattered to the ground. “You cannot pay me?” Her voice was quiet, but it was a threat; a crack in a glacier of ice.</p><p>The mayor clasped his hands together. “I can, but not now! Those hippogriffs, they ravaged our town, depleted most of our resources, including our gold, so twice the sum—”</p><p>Surina stepped forward, towering over him. He moved to hide behind his door, but Surina braced a fist against it, holding it open. Even weakened as she was, there was no contest in strength.</p><p>“You would hire a mercenary without the means to pay them?” she asked through her teeth. “You would have me risk my life for your town and not pay me? Does my life mean nothing to you?”</p><p>“It means everything!” he shouted. Surina saw beads of sweat form at his temple. He had braced himself for this. “We’ve warned mercenaries in the past about being unable to compensate, and they turned us down every time. We were desperate!”</p><p>The shouting had drawn the attention of the guards posted by the gates of the small manor. They turned, gripping their halberds.</p><p>“I do not care how desperate you were,” she said. He turned to flee, but she cracked him across the cheek with her elbow and staggered him. Her hand snapped out to grab a fistful of his shirt and slammed him into the wall behind the door. Her fur bristled and swayed, as if electrified by her fury.</p><p>Her rage was still new to her. It could be utilized as a weapon and a shield, but with it came an edge of grief, bitterness, and contempt. It was a raw emotion, and she let it overtake her.</p><p>“You <em>will</em> pay me,” she snarled, adding a second fist to his shirt and lifting his feet from the floor. Cold, wintry air blew from her nostrils and broke over his face. “I do not care if you have to cobble together family artifacts, peasant’s <em>savings</em>—”</p><p>In an instant, strong hands pulled her from behind. She felt her pain giving way to adrenaline and resisted at first, but then there were four hands and she couldn’t stop them from prying her off the mayor. She bellowed at him before something cracked her across the back of the skull. Stars burst in her eyes and she wobbled. A second strike landed and unconsciousness engulfed her.</p><p>The mayor stood over her body, holding a bleeding nose. The three gashes on her back were now plainly visible and continued to bleed out on to his floor. He cursed.</p><p>“Arrest her,” he demanded, “but get her that doctor.”</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. No Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina hasn't had a home since her exile and now resides at Lord Garland’s estate with the party.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[27]</p>
<p>Surina closed the door to the bedroom. <em>Her </em>bedroom<em>. </em>It felt odd to think. She had purchased nothing in it save for the clothes and weapons strapped to her back. All the furnishings, right down to the very last thread of the curtain, belonged to Lord Garland, but he had given it to her.</p>
<p>The entire estate was like that. Up until now she had been a guest, and it was still difficult to think of herself as anything but a stranger in the halls.</p>
<p>It was eerily familiar to her. The wide open spaces, the decor, the bustling servants, the gardens; it all harkened back to the first half of her life. It would have pained her, but everything about this place was warmer, somehow. Not strictly the climate, but the atmosphere in which it was gifted to her and her friends. It was her friends sharing that space with her, much as she kept to herself. Knowing that they were a single call away and that her isolation was a choice and not something forced upon her brought her comfort.</p>
<p>She had not had a home since her exile. It felt unfair to have one as extravagant as the first be her second, but she could accept it.</p>
<p>She stared into the fireplace. It was cold and dead, and somewhere in the ashes were the pages of her family history. They were no longer part of the mansion. They were no longer her home. She realized that perhaps a home wasn't always a place. It could be, but it could also be those she traveled with. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Open</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina reflects on Nat, a young boy whose parents she saved from slavers and has now become a sort of guardian for.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Surina’s friends knew with certainty that she was closed off. Even strangers didn’t have to know her long to see. It was as clear as there were stars in the sky.</p><p>But there was a part of her that was closed off to herself, as well, a well of emotions that she was scared to tap into. Her fury was so encompassing. She had learned to control it, but only over years of practise and because she was forced to. She feared her other emotions would erupt with the same ferocity that her rage had.</p><p>But they were there. They leaked through her dam. Before she knew it she was tutoring a human boy who wasn’t even ten years old. She felt contentment, pride, concern, guilt, but she also felt conflicted. Without allowing herself to ask why, she turned up at his door again and again to meet his beaming face.</p><p>And, like with everyone else, there was a part of her that was closed off to him. She wasn’t sure who she was protecting, doing that: him, or herself. Both, perhaps. It wasn’t until Valcyis asked her why she was so afraid that her thoughts formed crystal-clear. They were there all along, she had just repressed them.</p><p>She was scared to see him hurt. She was scared to see him see <em>her</em> get hurt. He looked at her with such awe, like the ground she walked on was blessed by Bahamut. She didn’t deserve it, and yet she couldn’t stand the thought of him realizing that she was just a cold, ruthless mercenary. There was no glory in her work, only blood and money. She didn’t want that for him.</p><p>She didn’t want him to lose her like she lost her brother or have his life torn from his hands. Her fears for him were endless all because she feared the same pain that came from broken trust and lost lives. Her fury could protect her on the outside but her emotions were just a shortcut to her core. </p><p>She struggled to put that to words aloud, but tried. As always with Valcyis, she seemed to understand even when Surina couldn’t communicate. Valcyis convinced her that her desire to form connections and her protectiveness wasn’t something to be frowned upon. She made clear that Surina would regret it if she pulled away. She was right, of course.</p><p>It made her feel freer, in a way. She needed to think higher of herself and that what she could teach Nat would enrich his life and make him stronger. She needed to open up to him, and to herself.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Highborn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina tries to psych herself up for a dinner party with the local nobles.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[59]</p><p>Surina closed the door behind Zephrine and resumed pacing the length of her room. It wasn’t a small space, but her long, heavy strides took her wall to wall in no time.</p><p>She wasn’t entirely sure what the mantra in her head was. She knew she was psyching herself up, but she also knew she was doing a poor job of it. One thought interrupted the last and then a new thought interjected that one before it could complete itself. Valcyis had cautioned that mingling with nobles at a party would jog old memories and it was only then that she realized it was true. She hadn’t been able to shake the thought since, like an animal with its jaws clamped around her leg. </p><p>Garland had joked that there was very little she got nervous about. She thought him correct at the time. Now she felt like a fool. </p><p>She slowed in front of the vanity. Her reflection, cold and impassive, stared back at her. She was a terrible liar with words, but she had mastered masking her expressions, at least. Her face didn’t match the snowstorm of her thoughts and feelings. Her fur, however, betrayed her; the tips pointed upwards in patches and drifted in an invisible wind. It reacted to her. It always had.</p><p>She pat and smoothed down the ends as if to soothe it. They seemed to respond, but a few hairs defied her and resumed their dance. </p><p>In the mirror she saw herself from ages past: younger, less tired, and dressed in finer clothes. The walls behind her were dark green, brown, and blue and the overall temperature matched the cool decor of her environment. Her fins were pierced and modest jewelry swung from her horns and a chain clasp holding a fur shawl and cloak in place. She stood taller, prouder, and more certain of her place at the dinner to come. Her fur was still, a bear in winter, only rising and falling with her breath. </p><p>She shook her head. The image vanished. She was at Garland’s. </p><p>She considered discarding her fur, but the second she reached for it she stopped. She would feel barren without it, exposed despite it being a gateway to her emotions. It was both her strength and her burden.</p><p>There was such a thing as psyching herself up too much. She straightened and exited her room before her thoughts could begin anew.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Reminder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[60]</p><p>As if on a domino from the day before, Surina was assaulted with an image from her past. Not herself, but her brother, his eyes glazed over, his chest torn asunder, and blood, so much blood. Pain shot through her chest. </p><p>She blinked. It was the automaton again, merely a cheap imitation of her brother’s visage. The only similarity it had was the fact that it laid dead.</p><p>On the dregs of her rage, she threw down her greataxe, lifted the machine over her head, and hurled it into the trench, well past Encore so it didn’t hurt him. It landed in a heap with a satisfying shriek and crunch of metal. Encore started and whirled his crossbow on her, meeting her gaze. His eyes were cold, a look she wore by default, and she knew she likely had a heated anger in her own. They had traded somewhere in the aftermath of the fight.</p><p>Her fury receded. She knew it would return, but she was worn. She shot Encore a puzzled look, then turned to retrieve her axe and return it to its home on her back.</p><p>She was furious at Mallox, but she didn’t know what more he could do to her. It stung and she knew he could rile her up with whatever information he had on her past, but she had already had her brother ripped from her. Everything else was a reminder. He could not be taken twice and she found solace in that.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A word Surina rarely uses aloud.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[61]</p><p>“I love you as well,” Surina replied to Val, but she said it clumsily, like her tongue was thick and the words tumbled out of her mouth and then down a flight of stairs only to land with a wet noise at the bottom. Val said it with conviction while Surina did not.</p><p>The words were out before she even realized what she was saying. It had been automatic. She hadn’t used that word in what felt like <em>years</em>. She did love Valcyis, that was without question, but she seldom expressed so out loud. It made her feel laid bare in a way that crying didn’t. </p><p>Surina waved once to Val, a white and silver speck on the brown canvas of the boat, then watched until it vanished on the horizon. She would probably not use that word again until she returned. </p><p>Surina loved her new friends, too, but she didn’t think she could say so. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. The Earth Has Its Music</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A moment of peace. Surina’s axe of the bear lord enhances her senses.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>“The earth has its music for those who will listen.” ― George Santayana</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[63]</p>
<p>It wasn't long ago Surina was bathed in nature. A lot had happened in a short time in Nyx, as was the norm with the people she traveled with, so it felt longer, but nature welcomed her back like she had never left. </p>
<p>She shifted her axe from one hand to the other with its handle sat on the ground between her legs like a post. Her party slept, but the night was lush with life. She focused and breathed deeply. Her elf form didn't enjoy the cold as much as her dragonborn body, but there was still an undeniable pleasure in the crispness of the evening air. It woke up her senses one by one and indeed, everything looked, smelled, and sounded sharper.</p>
<p>The feeling of clarity ebbed slightly anytime she broke contact with her axe. If she listened closely enough, both hands wrapped around the stem with her claws fitting seamlessly into the grip, she could swear she heard a voice. It was distant, like it came from the other side of a canyon, and it rumbled deep and low like a growl more than any spoken word.</p>
<p>She pressed her ear to the axe. Nothing. Maybe she was imagining it. She returned to her watch, savoring the peace, occasionally glancing to the tents her friends rested within. A small smile, unknown even to her, crept to her lips. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Sorrowswarm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The party fight sorrowswarm. Surina is the first unconscious.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[63]</p>
<p>Surina knew she had made a mistake charging in when the first wave of pain wracked her head. The stabbing, piercing pain of the creature's pointed limbs she could handle, but once it had her in its grip its way of harming her became mental. She didn't understand how something encompassing her entire body could be felt solely in her mind. She had never fought anything like it.</p>
<p>Fear swallowed her whole and she was unable to utter a sound in her terror as it crushed her into unconsciousness. </p>
<p>She woke with her face damp, Zephrine's elf disguise hovering above her, concern and panic carved into her features and a warm hand on her side. In her haze she thought she saw her eyes glisten. It was a common sight, something familiar in a situation anything but. </p>
<p>Her head throbbed like she was bludgeoned over the skull with a mountain. She coughed blood - that was where some of the wetness came from, dribbling over her chin. More escaped her nose and ears, forming red rivulets down her neck on her skin.</p>
<p>The last were tears, not of pain, but sorrow. Whatever these things were, they exuded misery to the point of contagiousness. It fed into her fury; it was uncomfortably familiar. </p>
<p>She nodded her thanks and pushed herself upright with her axe, sweeping a hand across her mouth and cheeks. Her strength flowed back into her, lent by Zephrine, but it was frail and hung in the balance. She couldn’t fight as she had, she needed to distance herself, but she remained rooted, a sentinel, steadfast in making sure Zephrine ran first. She would sooner fall again then let it take the others.  </p>
<p>It wasn't a fight she anticipated, but it was one she would finish. She hadn't lived through all she had to simply die in the middle of a forest. She brandished her weapon.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Trapeze</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina narrowly avoids death by lava.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[64]</p><p>Surina didn’t feel her fingers release the rope. One moment she grasped it and the next there was a hot gust of wind and the drop in her stomach that signaled she had fallen, her hands empty. </p><p>She was ready, at least, with Encore’s encouragement fresh in her mind. She fumbled for her immovable road and slammed the button. Her and Helena snapped to a halt and her arms sung in pain as they were suspended above the river of lava.</p><p>She panted with exertion. Sweat, another anomaly from her elven form, dripped over her face and made her hair stick to her cheeks. She worried it would get in her eyes, a concern she never used to have. She worried it would wet her palms, but her gloves' padded grip kept her and Helena firmly in place. Helena herself was silent, but her hold on Surina tightened tenfold, arms and legs clinching her neck and waist.</p><p>This should have been doable. Helena was heavier as a dragonborn, but she had carried her not hours ago. Surina wasn’t herself. Had she lost some of her strength when she swapped bodies? The cold from the previous plane bit into her in a way that was foreign and it weakened her. This whole damn mission wasn’t worth this, Varghan could go fuck himself.</p><p>The opposing cliff face was only a little over ten feet away. There was no chance of them getting back on the rope, and Surina didn’t want to risk it. Her ears burned and her heart pumped blood like it knew its death was near. Encore and Lazuli were distant and Zephrine’s head poking over the lip of the craggy rock was blurred from the heat.</p><p>“Hold on,” she heard herself mumble to Helena, but didn’t remember moving her lips or making the conscious decision to speak. She sensed Helena’s goddess through her touch, a tiny boost of courage. Surina tapped into her anger; her core fury for Amysic, the flint she always used, but also at their situation, the body that wasn’t her own, and Mallox. She swung them back and forth on the rod like a trapeze artist - she had watched Zephrine’s circus enough - and at the furthest point forward released the button and launched them at the wall. </p><p>She smashed into stone and dug her claws in so hard she worried they would break. Helena was still with her and she hurriedly poured the last of her frustration into a frenzied climb. She broke the surface of the cliff and the two of them collapsed a dozen feet in, Surina on her elbows and knees. Zephrine materialized at her side, shouting something about almost losing her the day before. Her dying anger put a filter on the sound.</p><p>She swallowed and shakily sat back on her heels, then clambered to her feet and staggered towards the next portal. They were alive. But if their future held anything like what had just happened, she feared they wouldn’t be for long. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Feared</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina scares her friends with how easily she can destroy.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[65]</p>
<p>“That was <em>terrifying</em>,” Lazuli said, breathless. Surina tried to gauge if she was impressed or genuinely worried. Under the blanket of night, the duress of her feelings, and the fact that Lazuli was still new to the group, it was difficult to say. Lazuli was impressed with how Surina could lift Helena wearing plated armour, perhaps it came from the same source of wonder.</p>
<p>“Yes, it was quite scary,” Helena conceded, quieter. Her fear was more palpable. Surina felt a twinge of guilt that softened her nerves, but they crackled and popped like sparks from a fire, coming and dispersing without warning. Surina knew she could be scary, but for her friends it came with the knowledge that Surina never harmed first, only ever acted in retaliation.</p>
<p>“Anger is terrifying,” Surina explained passively, a lesson she had learned long ago. “It is also very powerful.”</p>
<p>She remembered the exact way the wood of the shield splintered over her knee and how <em>good</em> it was to shatter something that belonged to Amysic. She knew it wasn’t the same as doing harm to a body, but a part of her felt like it was a fragment of him. Any morsel she could get from him and tear apart, be it real or metaphysical, she would.</p>
<p>He killed her brother, and by extension her whole way of life. She thought she wasn’t so cruel as to do the same and thought she would be satisfied with just ending his life, but she felt a burning need to wreak hell and destroy beyond that. By the sound of it he had hurt his own family, though, and she didn’t need to.</p>
<p>She remembered how it first felt to wield her greataxe, how the first few swings made the handle vibrate in her palms and the sound it made when it sliced air. ‘Fury’s Edge’, Valcyis dubbed it. Her new axe didn’t bear a name yet, but she handled it the same. She remembered wondering how it would feel to cut Amysic down and if she would enjoy it. After breaking the shield, she realized the answer was yes. She wished to immolate him so thoroughly his family name ceased to exist.</p>
<p>And that terrified her more than she terrified her friends.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Tunnel Vision</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina sees Amysic, the man who ruined her life, for the first time in fifteen years.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[68]</p>
<p>Surina thought she knew her angriest. She was wrong.</p>
<p>In fairness, maybe she forgot. Fifteen years was a long time to be angry. Even one as ferocious as hers had to submit to the erosion of time as gradually as anything else. It was in large part thanks to her friends as well, softening her edges and thawing the ice clinging to her heart. </p>
<p>The moment she laid eyes on him, everything else fell away. The edges of the room faded into black tinged with red veins, alike to the crystals they found earlier. The voices of her friends came through an invisible wall, muffled, and their touches felt like they were on a body beside herself. She saw Amysic framed at the end of a hallway and all her legs ached to do was hurtle down that path and end him.</p>
<p>She heard him clearly, though. His voice was the clearest thing of all, all drawn-out soft sounds like the hiss of a rattlesnake ready to lunge, signifying danger, falling over her ears like sand. She saw every brass scale on his face and every highlight in his strange purple eyes displayed in intricate detail. Every inch of him infuriated her to her bones in a way she hadn’t thought possible.</p>
<p>Still, she was vaguely aware of the arms looped around hers and the hands thrust against her back. Together they were enough to coax her through the room past Amysic, though her head turned to watch him every step of the way, unblinking, all her muscles tensed. She wanted to scream, to shout, but she knew the second she broke her silence her violent words would become violent action.</p>
<p>The tiny, rational part of her knew attacking him while they were weak was suicide. He didn’t deserve to fight her like this, either; he needed to see <em>her </em>face when she killed him, not Enya’s, and he needed to see exactly how dangerous she was at full strength. </p>
<p>“I will be back for you,” she hissed through clenched teeth, her tongue lashing against bear fangs. He smiled and winked and she broke line of sight to duck into the next room before she could act rashly. </p>
<p>Her senses returned, though they came in at a trickle; Zephrine’s vice on her arm, then warm hands on her face, a reassuring voice in her ear. Her chest heaved with breath and her fur prickled against her skin. She lifted her hands to cup Zephrine’s and closed her eyes, begging her consciousness to return. They needed her.</p>
<p>“You’ll have your time,” Zephrine assured her. “I promise you. I’m here, I’ll be here.”</p>
<p>Surina swallowed, nodded, and committed the promise to memory. She made similar promises to herself, but Zephrine’s meant far, far more. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Bed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina isn’t used to sharing a bed.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[73]</p><p>Surina couldn’t remember the last time she shared her bed with someone. Not just for intimacy, but in general. She shared rooms plenty, still did with her recent companions when they were away from home, but rarely did someone get into her closest space and stay there. She could remember who, but not when. Depression melted her years together and blended them together into an unrecognizable paste, muddying the colours and losing the specifics.</p><p>For that reason she had trouble falling asleep. Tristan was knocked out cold, his face tucked against her deltoid, his breathing slow and full. A thick hand rested over her forearm; any contact felt like a hearth burned under his skin. He wasn’t lying on top of her, but close-by. He seemed to understand that she wasn’t terribly affectionate or cuddly without her needing to say so. She couldn’t lie directly on her back with her horns, so her head was turned on its side and her breath rustled his fiery red hair.  </p><p>She didn’t even know why he would want to cuddle her. The night was chilly, and she wasn’t warm in personality or body. Her scales were cool to the touch and he commented as much. She drew the blankets up further in an effort to fend off the chill. Not for her, but for him.</p><p>She may have struggled to sleep even without someone present. The threat of the blue dragon loomed in her mind, roiling above the horizon like blackened storm clouds. She was weary; she <em>wanted</em> to sleep. She took a beating earlier, trained the villagers for three whole hours, and then – Tristan.</p><p>She partially took him in for the distraction, and it helped. She also wanted the experience. If there was a chance she would die tomorrow, why not? She had only ever slept with women, and in the short time she knew Tristan, the quality of his character shone through, stirring her feelings.</p><p>She knew she could die any day, but the probability changed, tethered to the plans her friends made as a group. When she knew what threat was to come, she could ready herself how she saw fit.</p><p>Surina drifted off eventually. Her sleep was deep and restful despite being slow to start.</p><p>And then, what felt like too soon after sleep claimed her, she woke to the distant screams of the town and the pounding of wings breaking the silence of the night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Hero</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tristan asks about Surina’s pendant. The effects of her cursed glaive begin to surface in the form of self-loathing.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[74]</p>
<p>Tristan returned later that evening. The town of Zhuft had calmed considerably in that time, largely thanks to Tristan, but a tension lingered, banked on a question of <em>when</em>? Would Orvanii keep her word or strike again? </p>
<p>Surina felt victorious. They'd put a dent in Orvanii's numbers and driven the strays out of town. Or, so she thought. </p>
<p>She had a knee on her bed when the knock came. She straightened and opened the door, revealing Tristan, his hair a muted auburn in the dark. Her eyebrows perked. His rose as well. </p>
<p>"Don't look so surprised," he said, cracking a tired grin. "I started my night here and I intend to see it through. Can I come in?"</p>
<p>Surina nodded and stepped aside. He brushed past and she closed the door behind him. She resumed getting ready for bed with company and eventually bedded down, unused to another climbing in after her and settling beside her. He nestled closer this time, resting his cheek on her collar and a palm over her sternum. </p>
<p>She'd closed her eyes and focused on rest when she felt a gentle pull on the cord on her neck and heard the rustle of thread. She cracked open an eye. Tristan fiddled with her pendant, smoothing a thumb over its carved surface. She'd forgotten to take it off.</p>
<p>"What's this?" he asked, delineating the script with a nail. He asked with the same understanding as earlier, that any personal question on one's life could be met with a wall of ice. </p>
<p>"A gift."</p>
<p>"Draconic, right?" She nodded. "What's it say?"</p>
<p>She swallowed. Nat's face formed in her mind, both bashful and prideful at once as he offered her the trinket. She was reluctant to initially put it on for what it said, but hadn't removed it except for sleeping and bathing since. A dire bear tooth and claw framed it on each side.</p>
<p>"'To a hero,'" she explained. "Though, the person who wrote it does not know draconic, so there is an error. He went to the temple of Bahamut for help. It says haro."</p>
<p>Tristan chuckled. "'To a haro.' That's sweet."</p>
<p>"Yes," Surina agreed, smiling despite herself. </p>
<p><em>But can a dragon truly call themselves a hero?</em> A voice in her mind insisted. She frowned. It was as if someone had socked the warmth out of her chest. </p>
<p>
  <em>A child does not know better. </em>
</p>
<p>Surina curled her fingers over Tristan's and gently removed them from the pendant. She debated removing it for the night, but that involved sitting up and disturbing the peace. </p>
<p>"No more questions," she said, "or I will show you the door and not let you back in."</p>
<p>He grinned against her collar but conceded with a nod, eyelids fluttering closed. Surina followed suit. </p>
<p>Exhaustion won, and she slept soundly.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Trade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina kills a dragon with her cursed weapon.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[74]</p>
<p>Surina charged Orvanii.</p>
<p>Imbuing the ScalePeeler with energy had felt natural. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t the worst sensation she had ever felt. It was as if her night’s rest was leached out of her, her strength pulled into the blade. She had plenty to spare, it was fine. The force the weapon dealt in recompense looked twice as much as what she infused into it. It wasn't painful; it was a fair trade.</p>
<p>A door appeared in her mind when she attuned to the glaive and she was finally opening that door. She almost regretted not trying it sooner, but wanted to save it for Orvanii. Now that she knew what it felt like and what it did, she could repeat it but smarter, stronger, faster. </p>
<p>Orvanii spit at her how it wasn’t supposed to be like this, how she deserved everything she had taken. Surina snarled in return and sliced the glaive across her throat, then twirled it around to stab it into the side of her neck to the hilt. Orvanii roared in agony.</p>
<p>Surina braced her knees and swung upwards with her polearm as an anchor to flip and land on the back of Orvanii’s elongated neck. Her scales crackled with electricity and vibrated under Surina’s calves. Surina swayed, but held firm. She grabbed the handle with both hands and<em> pulled</em> with all her might. She intended to cut her head off, but the dragon was thick muscle and scale and bone, and instead Surina left a gorge-like gash in her wake up to Orvanii’s ear. </p>
<p>She yanked the ScalePeeler free. Blood gushed forth to fill the gorge and Orvanii slammed to the ground, her eyes rolling back, dead. It felt good, inordinately so. The weight of what she’d accomplished didn’t hit her like she thought it would - she felt light in its stead. They had to kill her, Orvanii was far too evil and destructive, lording over people, creatures, and a land that didn’t belong to her. Killing her was the completion of a job more than an achievement, but Surina felt invigorated despite her exhaustion.</p>
<p>She leapt down and rolled into a run for her next target, eager for the same rush.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Aversion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina shows contempt for an ally as she continues to be influenced by her cursed weapon.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[75] </p>
<p>Surina felt revulsion when they met Lorazzel again. </p>
<p>It was the same revulsion she felt when she saw Orvanii, and to a lesser extent, the drakes and half dragon. She felt a fraction of it when they last passed through Lorazzel's woods, and it manifested in an urge to keep a wide berth. She maintained that distance, feeling like both a lion pacing its cage, hungry, and the innocent on the other side, watching it. </p>
<p>Did she feel this way when they first met? She hadn't acted this way then, but she didn't understand how she couldn’t have felt repulsed then, either. She didn't fully understand why, but accepted it as the truth without question. Her intuition usually served her well. </p>
<p>Inviting them into his tower, offering to show them his research, it all felt like a ploy, a cheap trick to lure them in before snatching them up in his jaws. Her fingers itched for her glaive to fend herself and end the threat prematurely. It went against her self-imposed rule of never harming first, but that rule had always been flexible – some things she knew were threats before they hurt her, and she could act first. All of her instincts were telling her that now even though Lorazzel had done nothing to incite it.</p>
<p>They were all intrusive thoughts, so she maintained her cool. Of course she was on guard around a dragon after having just slain a dragon. She would attack if it attacked first.</p>
<p>She waited in the library while the others ascended. A part of her feared they wouldn’t return and that she should have gone with them to protect them, but she couldn’t bring herself to go. She busied herself with checking the spines on the shelves, finding comfort in the familiarity of books. It kept her hands and eyes busy; her ears stayed sharp for the sounds of violence.</p>
<p>She didn’t want to be in the tower or in the presence of Lorazzel any longer than she needed to be.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Free</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina’s friends free her from her cursed weapon.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[78]</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Dark is night, but you are bright, and have so much so many lack. You’ve lost your way, but come what may, we’ll bring you back. Come back.”</p>
</blockquote><p>Surina opened her eyes.</p><p>Silence replaced chaos. Where once was a black shadow in her mind was light, emptiness, <em>herself</em>, her thoughts untainted and uninfluenced. She gasped like she’d come up for air after diving to the bottom of an ocean cavern. Zephrine dropped the spell locking her in place and she sunk to the floor.</p><p>Chaos returned as her friends rushed to remove her physical bindings. A bedroll, chains, horse reigns. They took every precaution but in the end, Zephrine’s spell was enough. She caught her breath while they worked around her, trying to collect herself but not entirely sure what she was collecting. There were pieces of her scattered into the far corners of her mind, shut and locked into chests by the curse. They were together again, she only needed to examine the picture and recognize it for what it was.</p><p>Her memories were still intact, all the horrible things she said, all the brutal violence she committed – guilt lurched in her and tears gathered in her eyes.</p><p>Blossom laid her head in her lap, still purring with vigor. Her bonds fell and hands grasped her face, two spots of warmth chasing the last of the cold away.</p><p>“Can you hear me?” Zephrine asked. “Surina, can you hear me?”</p><p>Surina met her gaze, rising from her stupor. She raised her hands to cup Zephrine’s. Surina looked at her without hate, only regret, relief, gratefulness, sorrow.</p><p>“I can hear you,” she said, voice cracking, “for the first time.”</p><p>Zephrine broke into messy sobs, planted a kiss on her forehead, and embraced her. Surina cried, too, releasing all of the tension and fear and loathing built up in her. Everyone else swarmed to join the hug. She felt safe, and whatever scum the curse of the ScalePeeler left over on her mind vanished with her breakdown, washed away by her tears. She was free.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Mockery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina has Feelings about going to a temple of Bahamut. Surina?? Bitter?? No way!!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[80]</p>
<p>The ascent to the Aggrad Monastery was new for Surina. She scaled plenty of mountains, often without the help of stairs, but what lay at its peak set a hot coal in the pit of her stomach. Her biggest comfort was the breeze, cooling her trepidation, and the security blanket of her friends marching alongside her, filling the silence.</p>
<p>For a while, she could pretend she was climbing another pass to get to fresh snow, solitude, and respite like she did with Valcyis. The temple and its sandstone walls eventually peeked past the horizon and there was no more tricking herself into thinking they were headed anywhere but a place of worship. The incline evened out and they approached the main gates.</p>
<p>Surina knew it was more than a building erected from harsh rocky ground; this place had power. She felt it when she, Zephrine, and Helena visited the temple in Nyx. But it felt wrong, like it was mocking her. Her eyes fixed on the young monks training outdoors, to the people batting each other with swords. All of them adorned in silvers and blues and holy iconography raised her hackles. What did these people do differently to earn Bahamut’s attention? What did she do wrong? Or what did she fail to do right?</p>
<p>Was it a life dedicated to his worship, or an unfaltering faith that one day, he would respond? Was there a set time? Was he even aware how she felt?</p>
<p>In a way, she was relieved she visited the temple first. It was her first foray into what used to be her deity since she swore him off. She still wouldn’t worship him, but it was a step closer after more than a decade. Like so many things from her past, she felt scorned. She hadn’t lost him like she had her brother, but realized she never had him on her side to begin with. </p>
<p>Sometimes she wished her friends would drag her kicking and screaming into spaces that made her uncomfortable. Sometimes it felt like the only way she could grow past her hatred, but she knew they wouldn’t force her. It was through their presence at all that she was able to step inside.</p>
<p>Surina felt big wherever she traveled outside the Imperium. Doors were too short, baths too small and overflowing, and she often found herself looking down. Her walls too high and thick to climb. In the shadow of Bahamut’s statue, she felt small. Not physically, but emotionally, in a way that made her feel like a condescended child and not in awe as she should have been.</p>
<p>“You alright, Surina?” Lazuli’s voice cut through her thoughts. She perked.</p>
<p>“I—I will get back to you on that.” After her curse, honesty became a bit of a compulsion. She hoped the others could see she offered her feelings willingly and the curse wasn’t close to the truth. “I think so, but – history is what it is.”</p>
<p>“Right,” Lazuli said. “Well, if we need to leave, say the word.”</p>
<p>“You need not worry. If I need to leave, I will leave myself. I should be fine.”</p>
<p>“I mean if I didn’t burst into flames, I don’t think you will,” Zephrine chimed in, smiling sweetly.</p>
<p>Surina’s face cracked with a smile. It felt wrested from her, but she was grateful. She would manage. The promise of research and a vault of information untouched by many beckoned her forward.</p>
<p>“It’s gunna be okay, we’re here for you,” Helena added.</p>
<p>“Exactly.” Lazuli clapped her once on the arm. “Don’t forget that you’re not alone.”</p>
<p>Surina nodded, grim, but the tension exited her. She would not forget anytime soon.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Shelter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Helena asks to borrow Surina's bear pelt.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[86]</p><p>With practised ease Surina unclasped her fur, swung it off, and draped it around Helena. She refastened it snug, explaining its enchantment to withstand general wear and tear. Helena relaxed inside it, shoulders falling and face lifting in a reverent smile as she reached up to stroke it. It was massive on her, its end sitting just above her elbows, and while not terribly heavy, Surina knew Helena could bear the weight regardless.</p><p>It was an odd feeling, seeing her bear fur on another, but not an unwelcome one. Before, when Helena explained feeling comforted when Surina put it on her when she was grieving her ruined church, she was surprised. She shouldn’t have been, the gesture <em>was</em> to comfort her. She just hadn’t thought of it that way word for word at the time, or somehow expected her efforts to help someone be futile. It was unconscious, the closest thing she had to a security blanket she could offer. It was a hug from her without strictly touching another person.</p><p>She felt content to share and equally comforted by the thought that what brought her peace of mind could be given to those she cared for. Her stature frightened many, and people shied away from her. Claws and teeth, axe and scales – a lot of her was sharp to the touch. Her fur was not.</p><p>It heartened Surina to know that although few, there were others who felt protected and found shelter in her. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Nickname</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zephrine uses Surina's nickname for the first time.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>[91]</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Surina was loading up her plate with crab legs and venison skewers for the third time when it piped up behind her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Suri,” Zeph said, exasperated, and Surina turned. She both saw and heard the fondness in her; her amber eyes were soft and any legitimate disappointment was cushioned by it. Zephrine wasn’t looking at her plate, but her torso, behind the wall of food. Surina glanced down, following her gaze, and spotted a blush of blood leftover on her robes that she’d missed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Surina cracked a tiny, knowing smile. She’d heard that tone before, in Valcyis and in herself, but far more often in her own voice than anyone else’s. Paired with the nickname, it was almost like her old friend was standing before her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She returned to her post fight meal, silently pleased that Zephrine was the first to crack open her nickname among the party like champagne even if she was scolding her. She didn’t know she was missing it until she heard it.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Grieve</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina dies.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[93]</p>
<p>Surina dipped her quill in ink and lowered it to the page. Sunlight filtered in through the window to her right, orange and yellow and magenta all fighting in a dying blaze of glory. It grew hotter by the day, but it was comfortable when the sun set and she stuck to the shade. A draft crept in under the crack she opened, stirring her pages but not causing them to flee.</p>
<p>Her new bedroom was the former study; it was fitting to be scrawling notes. Her words marked the parchment:</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>Valcyis,</em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>Helena recently came to me and talked about contingency plans and I realized I had none in place. It is not that I assumed I would always live through everything, but I simply never planned for my death. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>I know I have done many dangerous things in my life, but the truth is some of the most dangerous things have all been more recent than not. The suggestion to sort out any final business was reinforced upon me by the leaders of the city. This feels bigger and more dangerous, or at least is a danger I can prepare myself for, and I suppose a will is one method of preparation. </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>In the event that I die and do not come back, I think you should be the executor of my wishes. There is not much to take care of, because most of what I have I carry with me, but there are a few bases to cover. And in the likely event that I live, then this has been written and taken care of for the foreseeable future.</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><hr/>
<p>The march to Skarrit turned into a march down memory lane. Holding Aleksei’s reins, a cold shudder raced up her tail and spine. The change in scenery from blooming nature to bleak and barren with an equally gloomy sky could have been the culprit, but she knew better. If she closed her eyes she could lose herself in a night misty with rain, her brother beside her, her guards at her rear, and her father not far behind – the siege on her lands by a horde of bandits orchestrated by the man she loathed.</p>
<p>The most alarming similarity was the feeling of dread in her gut like poison in a well. Every time she left Nyx she knew it could be her last, but she was always confident in herself and over time, her friends as well. She was confident still, but a weird, unshakeable dread loomed at her shoulder, the compass of her heart pointed towards doubt.</p>
<p>“It is an incredibly noble thing for you to do,” Ja’ghul applauded them the day before. Surina did not want to be put on a pedestal or thought of as noble. Looking back, she still didn’t know how she arrived here. She didn’t know why she was doing what she was doing, going toe to toe with an archdemon.</p>
<p>She tightened her grip on the reins with a creak of her gloves. At least this time nobody was forcing her to split off against her will. If anyone died, they would be by each other’s side.</p>
<p>She faced this because it was right, but also because she could never convince her friends not take on the world to save it.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Surina’s second time being swallowed by a creature far larger than her was no more pleasant than the first. It was dark, cramped, she could hardly breathe or move, and it hurt. This pain wasn’t acidic, but draining her life wherever it made contact with her scales. Her sword found no purchase, a pale sliver of mercury light in the unknown.</p>
<p>Muscles contracted around her and she was rushed back in the direction she came. It spat her onto her back with a crack, her vision a cone of black closing in. The Horned Rat engulfed what little she could see, a monstrous grin on its face, mountainous in size; the biggest threat she’d ever faced, in stature and ability.</p>
<p>Claws rushed her. She lifted her sword but he battered and flung it away. They punched through her shoulder and wrenched across her, remorseless and gleeful. He lifted into her the air and hurled her aside, but she was dead before she hit the ground and rolled to a halt.</p>
<p>Surina stood in a glade. Mist hugged her calves and pines sprouted around her, dark green silhouettes against the moisture in the air. It was near frosty, like home, like she never left. She felt a pull – nothing literal, but from all of her, urging her to go to what was next.</p>
<p>She cautioned a step, but was interrupted. Behind her rang a voice that was light, melodic, familiar, but desperate – not all of it she understood, but the intention was clear. You can’t leave, come back, you can’t, come back, don’t leave. It was Encore.</p>
<p>She still felt the pull, a soundless call versus the music at her back. Her mission wasn’t over. They could succeed without her but they shouldn’t have had to. She turned back for him, a hand outstretched.</p>
<p>Air filled her lungs. Everything hurt again, but her vision wasn’t obscured anymore. Everyone stood where they were before, circling the Horned Rat, focusing on their artifacts and the ritual forming a gossamer line between them in a trine. Closest was Encore, tear-stricken, one hand cradling her head while the other hovered above her chest. His ring was pointed at her, a glow receding from it like it was just used.</p>
<p>There were two spells in that ring: revivify, and mirror image. She knew which spell he used and her discomfort suddenly went beyond physical.</p>
<p>“You’re alive,” Encore cried, confirming her fears.</p>
<p>Her instinct, her gut – it was right again. And there was no comfort in that.</p>
<p>Her hands found her greataxe. She stood. They fought. They won. The Iron Hearts escaped the pour of rocks from a collapsing cave and when they burst into open air, she wondered if it was always so hard to breathe.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Victor passed Surina not a glass, but an entire bottle of firewater. Her hands overlapped his and he flashed her a small smile and a confident nod. She returned it and he bustled out of the medical tent once more, leaving her in solitude.</p>
<p>She uncorked it and meant to take a swig but drained at least a quarter of the bottle, ending where its neck swelled into its body. It was harsh, but in a way, it made her insides match her battered outsides, then dulled everything. She was exhausted, but it gave her a reason to hold on to consciousness for another hour or two.</p>
<p>She set aside the firewater and picked at her food more than ate. She forced down some of the slop simply because she didn’t want to wake up hungover, although she suspected she’d wake up with a headache regardless of her state of sobriety when she slept.</p>
<p>She wasn’t used to having no appetite. Her hunger was almost as voracious as her anger sometimes. She sat her plate beside the bottle and sighed, rubbing the heel of her palms over her eyes and then grasping the edge of her cot.</p>
<p>She absently ran the back of her knuckles over the bandages on her chest, wrapped around her thick and generous. The medics had to take special care to remove her breastplate – the Horned Rat sliced through it, her shirt, and skin as if it were the soft meat of a human. If they weren’t careful, anyone could have cut themselves on the shorn metal. She knew Encore could fix it, but –</p>
<p>Gods, Encore. She bowed her head and hunched her shoulders over her knees. Surina was so used to grieving; her brother, her parents, her former life when it was cut away with her exile. She never, ever thought about what it might be like for people to grieve <em>her</em>.</p>
<p>She vowed to continue to try and stay alive, if only to keep them from the pain of that loss. It felt maudlin, but necessary. With that vow came accepting that she was embedded deep enough in their hearts that it would hurt to have her removed.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Sacrifice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina gives up her rage over Amysic to help Encore.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[97]</p><p>Surina made a fist, then thrust out her arm and clasped the hag’s hand before her heart could change its mind. A shockwave burst out without rattling or displacing any furniture in the hut.</p><p>To have something inside of her that wasn’t tangible pulled out, a feeling and not a bone or blood, was a unique sensation she never thought she would live to feel. Then again, neither was dying and returning to life.</p><p>The energy spiralled back to their linked hands and channelled into the hag. The image of Anais as a young, composed woman melted away. In its place was a tall, sallow, looming creature, but it was brief before it flickered back, like Surina blinked.</p><p>It didn’t hurt, but the source of nearly two decades worth of pain, rage, and turmoil was heaved out. Surina traveled across continents with her rage. It was her constant companion when she saw friends come and go and sometimes the sole thing keeping her alive on the most frigid nights. It burned her to do bad things – to extort, to kill. It was the size of a city conflagration snuffed out as easily as two fingers pinching a wick, but no wisp of smoke or even a candle remained. There was nothing.</p><p>A weight lifted, but without it, Surina was almost floating away with no direction.</p><p>Her hand withdrew. Anais inhaled deeply, a tongue darting over her lips before she reclined in her seat.</p><p>“My dear, you were holding onto more destruction in your mind than I think I've felt for a very long time,” she purred. She practically <em>glowed</em>. “Thank you. Now, let’s go fix your broken friend, hm?”</p><p>Anais filed out. Surina stood with a push on the armrests, numb, and followed.</p><hr/><p>Later, Surina drew shapes into the dirt with the point of her sword. Her mind was elsewhere, tucked inside herself like the wing of a bird.</p><p>She was in a pocket of space. She brought Amysic to mind as if hoping to ignite a match. Every time she tried, it was doused before she could drag it, and then there was no match at all. She didn’t even have any particularly strong feelings about it vanishing, but she was searching for the comfort of familiarity and coming up empty-handed.</p><p>Surina knew she was more than her rage over Amysic – Zephrine assured her as much. And she still harboured a fury within her that existed before he wronged her, but it was different. Knowing was different than feeling. In its absence, she felt clear-headed, concise, logical, like she could cast judgment without her personal feelings bursting her from the inside-out.</p><p>Anais intended to pull out every emotion of hers surrounding Amysic, but all that was left was rage. She found herself still able to feel grief over Kaladan’s death, but when she switched to Amysic, there was hardly even apathy. Just a cold, empty space.</p><p>There was no regret, though. She would sacrifice it again for Encore if she had to, and then again and again. Lazuli put it well when she said she was leaving her past behind. But her rage over Amysic was not only Surina's past, it was her present and her future. In a way, she regained a piece of her past self, before she was all fury. She was uncertain if that was good or bad.</p><p>But, she realized, Amysic Venx no longer had power over her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Reparations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina sees her sister for the first time since her exile.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[98]</p><p></p><div class="">
  <p>The last time Surina held her sister, it was through prison bars. Thava was seventeen, shorter and smaller, in mind and in body. Now she was a woman, and she hugged back with a ferocity and strength that startled Surina.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She was thirty-two now, wasn’t she? Surina squeezed her tighter still. Thava had to finish growing up with parents who were defined by their despair without her. They couldn’t even put their faith in Thava as their new heir – they turned to necromancy and were shaped into new people over their grief and contempt.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Surina was, too, so to judge too harshly was hypocritical, but at least she retained her core. Her friends reminded her of the value of caring and caring deeply.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>With her hatred of Amysic out of the picture and her little sister back in her arms, Surina felt like she had recovered another missing piece of her past.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Live</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina nearly dies again because of some "prophecy."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[102]</p><p>Surina only sheathed her sword once Karl and his companions were well out of sight, limping away. The thing was still bloody as all hell - she would need to clean it extensively later.</p><p>Encore, Helena, and Zephrine left to search for Keriah, leaving her with Lazuli, but she turned and dragged her feet over to a nearby copse. Just a few metres in she braced a hand against a tree trunk and bowed her head. With the other hand she reached up to cover her eyes, a sob tearing itself free. More followed the first, but violent and heavy, and she dug her claws into the bark, marking thin grooves and burying wood chips under her nails. </p><p>She worried that when she fell, she’d find herself in the glade again, only any melodic voice of her friends would be harder to follow. She knew better than anyone that she was infallible, especially after dying once, and yet she still entered that fight cocky that a human man was no match compared to an archdemon. Gods, how wrong she was.</p><p>She never knew how badly she wanted to live until then. To make sure she saw her sister see her goal through to become empress, to see Valcyis again when she returned to the coastlands - to not die an exile. That would mean her parents and Amysic <em> won</em>. </p><p>Most of those who tried to kill her were because of the actions of someone else, and rarely her own. It was unjust.</p><p>She missed the footsteps over her crying and flinched when Lazuli’s hand touched her shoulder. She reflexively twisted her head further away, but she’d seen her cry before, when her curse was released.</p><p>“Do you want a hug?” she asked gently. Surina’s immediate impulse was unsure. When vulnerable, she both wanted to be left alone to collect herself and to be comforted. The two feelings waged war on each other at all times, crying or no crying.</p><p>“I know I am not as good at it as you,” she continued, sheepish. That decided it for her - Surina unhooked her claws from the tree and turned to gather Lazuli in a snug embrace. The part of her that wanted to be comforted struggled with her size, she wanted to be <em> held </em>, not hold, but she lowered her face into Lazuli’s shoulder and continued to sob at length. The khenra patted and rubbed what she could reach of her back and uttered soft, soothing sounds.</p><p>Her feelings were intense and uncomfortable, but it meant she was still alive. She had come to know peace, even if it was only a morsel of it - and she could find it again. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Sentinel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Valcyis falls asleep on her watch with Surina.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[104]</p><p>Surina watched as Valcyis fell asleep on their watch. Valcyis sat on the floor with her back against the wall, facing the door, her sword propped up beside her. First there was an intermittent yawn which became more frequent and her posture shifted from upright and vigilant to lax and sleepy. Her eyes were half-closed one moment and then fully the next, her chin dipping to rest against her chest. Her limbs gave in to gravity and her breathing slowed.</p><p>Surina watched, amused and fond. Valcyis teleported across the world and was still under the influence of the Imperium’s time, not the coastlands. Under normal circumstances she would have woken Val, especially if it was just the two of them – they couldn’t afford to doze. But here, with everyone present and the night air a relief from the daytime heat, she felt focused enough for the both of them.</p><p>She was more alert after what happened in Serpent’s Eye with the wererat assassins. They were no longer a threat, but assassins and bandits weren’t exclusively wererats. They had to be on guard for all things, expected and unexpected.</p><p>Surina pushed off the wall where she leaned and approached as soft-footed as she could. The floorboards groaned but everyone, Valcyis chief among them, remained knocked out cold.</p><p>Surina removed Val’s sword and replaced it by the couch she’d occupied, then returned and slid a hand under her back between her shoulder blades. One of her legs was bent and the other straight, but Surina folded up both and scooped her off the floor.</p><p>She stilled as she stood, but Valcyis hardly stirred, was practically dead weight. She smelled as her letters did – a pressed flower, some sort of soap, now touched by the arid scent of Erek-Khem. Surina crept back to the couch and laid her on it, draping her legs over the armrest and cushioning the side of her head against the chair’s back. She carefully arranged Val’s arms over her stomach so they weren’t flying everywhere.</p><p>Moving slowly to not disturb her meant her hands lingered, but eventually she drew away completely, successful. </p><p>Surina returned to her post, a quiet tenderness in her heart. She didn’t know what she did to deserve Valcyis’ friendship, but she would not take her for granted.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Disarm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina bumps into Val after talking with Zephrine about her feelings.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[107]</p>
<p>Surina exited Zeph’s room with a soft “goodnight”, her two teacups in hand. She pulled the door closed with her forearm and glanced up in time to see Val standing outside Encore’s room in a similar pose, hand on the doorknob. Her eyebrows rose for less than a second before her face bloomed in a smile.</p>
<p>Surina froze in place. To see Valcyis immediately after confessing her affection for her to Zephrine was disarming in a way she didn’t expect. She expressed those feelings in a safe space with someone who wouldn’t cast judgement, but speaking them aloud encased them in stone. It made them far more real than thinking about it ever had, like she deposited her heart at her feet and had to confront it with an honest yes or no and not a ‘maybe’ or ‘I don’t know.’</p>
<p>In her head, she could safely file and organize her thoughts as she saw fit. At her feet, they were a mess that was hard to salvage without help.</p>
<p>“Chatting with Zephrine?” Val asked, gesturing to Surina’s back.</p>
<p>Surina caught herself, nodded, and straightened. She pointed behind Val with one of the teacups. It felt silly, but it would have felt less silly if she wasn’t caught off-guard. “With Encore?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Val stepped away from the door and Surina echoed her until they were meandering back towards the stairs down the hall, side by side. Surina would have escaped to her bedroom, but she’d already committed to returning the cups to the kitchen. “Thought I’d check in with him after hearing about your adventures. Purifier stuff, you know, very serious.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Surina managed. The impending conversation about telling Val lurked in her mind, distracting her from the present.</p>
<p>“He told me you gave him some real solid advice.”</p>
<p>“I did my best.”</p>
<p>“You alright?” Val asked. “If I had to guess, which I’m pretty decent at, it seems like you had a serious conversation of your own.”</p>
<p>“In a way,” Surina said. They descended the spiral staircase and entered the main foyer. Surina felt like she was walking too fast and too slow - if she could sweat, she would’ve been. “Less serious than the Purifier, I would argue.”</p>
<p>“Not considering becoming a mage after all this time, are you?” Val teased, nudging her with an elbow.</p>
<p>“Hardly,” Surina scoffed.</p>
<p>“Now I am a little hurt that you’d go see Zephrine to start your magic lessons and not me, but I’ll let it slide for now.” Val grinned, patting her twice on the back of the shoulder as she brushed past for the guest quarters. “Goodnight, Suri.”</p>
<p>Surina uttered another soft “Goodnight,” before she was gone.</p>
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<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Laden</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Val sees Surina’s death scars for the first time.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[109]</p><p>Getting ready for bed with Val in the room wasn’t unusual for Surina, and neither was sharing a bed with her. Doing both as her partner was. </p><p>She acted as normal even if the nature of their relationship changed within the last day – she pulled her shirt over her head, folded it, and laid it on the vanity. She tugged off her gloves from the pads and stacked them on top, then reached for some lotion. She didn’t anticipate staying at Victor’s, but there were miniature bottles for her to choose from. </p><p>The idea of being someone’s partner even before Valcyis came into the equation was still a foreign concept to her. She’d only held that title once, a few years following her exile. She tried not to overthink their future or her emotions – she gave herself permission to just live it while they were together. It was as Zephrine said: every relationship was unique. </p><p>She rolled the cream over the scales of her hands and knuckles and peered into the mirror. Valcyis’ reflection stared back from the bedside. Her gaze was on her body, fixed on the scars carved across her shoulder, chest, and stomach like lightning. Her mark of death.</p><p>Surina slowed, uncomfortable, having forgotten in the moment. Val’s expression was a white, unmarked page.  </p><p>“Does it bother you?” Surina asked, snapping the tension. “I can put a shirt back on.”</p><p>“No, no,” Val said quickly, shaking her head and ending whatever stupor she was in. “You know, I thought I caught a glimpse of them when we were in Erek-Khem, but you were quick to change. I thought it was weird you’d sleep with your shirt on in the damn desert, but I didn’t want to pry.”</p><p>“It is a recent choice.”</p><p>Val walked over, slow and measured. “Can I see?”</p><p>Surina nodded and turned. Val stopped in front of her, sizing it up closer to, first with her eyes, then her hands. She laid a palm at her shoulder, then followed the scars with her fingers, bumping over collarbone, pectorals, and abdomen. Her touch was soft, the antithesis to what dealt the blow, but not shy, either. Her face was drawn in concern, lost in thought.</p><p>The hand settled over Surina’s sternum and Val met her eyes. “Does it bother <em>you</em>?”</p><p>“In the beginning, yes,” Surina admitted. “Less so now. I do not ‘see’ them so much anymore – they are a part of me as much as any other markings I have.”</p><p>“Then why the hesitation? Why the change? I've never known you to be self-conscious about scars.”</p><p>Surina was slower with her next answer. “For the others,” she said. She raised a hand to hold Val’s in place, squeezing it tight. “At first it was for myself, but I did not see my death. They did. I do not wish to remind them of what happened.”</p><p>“I think it’s better to confront those feelings than avoid them,” Val said. “I don’t know if this scar is going away anytime soon and you deserve to be comfortable. Maybe you should talk to them about it, see how they feel.”</p><p>“Maybe. It is a difficult subject.”</p><p>“Ah, but you’ve had plenty of difficult chats with them before, a lot of which have taken place over the last week. I know you can do it.” Val sighed, losing some of her height with her air. “I never saw it either, Suri.”</p><p>“I did not want you to think of it,” Surina said, shoulders caving slightly inwards.</p><p>“Kinda hard not to think about when you hand me your will,” Val noted with a wry smile.</p><p>“Sorry.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Val assured, patting her chest with a solid <em>thump-thump</em>. “I said what I said about that and I meant it. Now, I for one would like it if you slept with your shirt off – so don’t worry about all that, okay? Not with me. I’m not gonna tear myself up thinking about what I would’ve done if I was there, it’s in the past. You’re here, now, and we can act on that.”</p><p>Surina smiled and tipped Val’s chin with two of her fingers, earning herself a grin. “I think that is reasonable.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Delight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina and Val's first kiss.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For promptober 2020 (but not really).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[110]</p><p>Every day intimacy came a little easier. Surina withdrew from her hug with Valcyis but kept a hold of her upper arms, cradling them just behind the elbows.</p><p>She hesitated, unsure if this was the right time or place or if she was moving too quickly – but there was never any certainty about those things, no strict schedule to follow. Surina only knew what she wanted. She suspected there wasn't really a <em>wrong</em> time or place so long as she asked.</p><p>"Can I kiss you goodbye?" she broached, thumbs giving a nervous swipe of white scales. </p><p>Val's eyes widened, similar to how they did on their picnic, but she blinked it away and nodded quickly. </p><p>Surina's arms fell to grasp her hands and draw her in. Like a tacit, coordinated dance, Val stepped in at the same time to greet her, chests grazing. Surina touched the tips of their noses together, stole a breath, and kissed her. It was light and soft, nothing dramatic – it was all Surina could do, nothing more, nothing less. </p><p>She didn't consider herself much of a kisser, either, but her heart still gave a contented spark when Val returned it, a confirmation that it was the right time and place. She leaned away to meet a beaming Valcyis, bright like morning dew on grass. Surina grinned in return, then embraced her again, almost light-headed. </p><p>Goodbye kisses were supposed to be bittersweet, or so Surina was lead to believe. For her, though, it was a delightful reminder of something to return home to. She was melding something of her new life with her old and it was shaping up to be a marker of their relationship – quiet but intimate.</p>
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<a name="section0036"><h2>36. Touch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Surina trims her claws.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For promptober 2020 (and Valentines and Femslash Feb).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Being intimate with Valcyis was an eventuality, because Surina and her partner wanted it to be an eventuality. She didn't know when or where, but when it turned out to be nowhere – just another inn in Oswin – it became a somewhere.</p><p>A single kiss in bed evolved into more kissing – Surina on her side, propped on one arm, Val on her back, a hand curled around her neck, fingers smoothing over her spines. She felt that rare and burning itch under her skin to hear her, see her, feel her.</p><p>Her free hand skimmed over Val's exposed chest and stomach, stopping at the waistband of her slacks with the edge of her nails. She drew back to ask, but stopped – a revelation waited for her. She flipped onto her opposing side and sat up, throwing her legs over the side of the bed and yanking open the top drawer to the bedside cabinet. Val followed, confusion and concern fluttering across her face.</p><p>Surina dug out the set of nail clippers she'd put away. She brought two of her claws into their path and snipped, then recovered a file to soften their edges into soft, unobtrusive ovals. Val peered over her shoulder, caught sight of what she was doing, and collapsed back onto the bed in a fit of incredulous laughter. </p><p>"What did you think you were gunna <em>do</em>?" Val asked, rife with giggles. "Impale me?"</p><p> "You will thank me later," Suri said, dumping both objects back into their drawer. "They will grow back. Now, can I touch you?"</p>
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